Life and Death Matters
by PastaEatingNerd
Summary: Set right after the events of X-Factor 244. Theresa wants to say goodbye to Monet. The result isn't quite what she expected. Being the Morrigan's changed her in ways she never could have guessed.


_Pray for me_

No sooner had the words escaped her lips than she felt herself disintegrate. Her very being was pulled apart slowly, cell by cell, memory by memory. Souls, minds, universes, even, that she'd never experienced before filled every crevice, pushing even the smallest facets of who she once was further and further apart. The essence of Theresa Cassidy was stretched thin, snapping at every turn. In turn, the thoughts, feelings, and power of every soul who'd once worn the Morrigan's mantle filling in the crevices, expanding until there was no physical presence that could hold them.

_Wait!_

She would have screamed if she could, but the time for screaming seemed eons ago now. All she could do before she was consumed entirely was to grasp onto what remained of her humanity. Humanity? What exactly was humanity anyway? It all seemed so small now, so far away…

_Wait! I'm not ready yet!_

She strained, pulling violently at her ever expanding consciousness. From the swirling void, she tried in vain to find the shell she left behind, to become Theresa again, just for a little bit longer, just long enough…

_I'm not ready to go! I cannot go yet! I have to see Monet! Please, just let me see her once last time…_

She pulled at any human life she could find within herself, just enough to form hands. Hands then arms, molecule by molecule, until a physical form began to take shape. Memories of who she once was came easier now. A body made all the difference, she realized. Theresa's skin held memories of Monet's graceful hands. Her mouth, Monet's tender kisses, her heart, her living beating heart…well, that spoke for itself.

She could see Monet now. The girl who sat scowling on her bed was blurry and far away but it was definitely Monet.

_Please, please, let me be able to do this. Dammit, woman, you're supposed to be some all-powerful goddess now and you canna' even say goodbye to your…_

Yes, that sounded right. That sounded like something Theresa would think. Perhaps she hadn't lost herself entirely after all. Her haphazardly formed legs shaking with every step, Theresa—yes, she supposed she could call herself Theresa now—stumbled toward the blurred image she knew to be Monet. It was dark, darker than she'd ever found herself able to see clearly through before. Could Monet see her in that darkness? Perhaps it didn't matter. After all, what was it the previous Morrigan had told her? It was far more about believing than seeing, anyway.

…And Monet believed. Theresa knew she did.

_Can I speak? I spoke to James…Jamie…Surely I could…_ When she opened her mouth to try, only an agonized wail escaped. She tried again and again, but no words would come, only scream after scream after scream. Her makeshift human lungs quickly buckled under the strain and it was all Theresa could do to keep her chest from imploding back into the void.

…And still, Monet could not see her.

Theresa supposed it was to be expected. It wasn't as though the Morrigan needed to speak the language of humans often. But Jamie, she'd spoken to Jamie, hadn't she? How did had she done it that time? How had she managed to speak the words she'd never found it within herself to say when she was human? It dawned on her like a bolt of lightning. She hadn't tried to speak with her mouth at all. The remnants of her human heart had done the talking. She could be honest now, now that she had nothing to lose and little more tying her to humanity than love…

…Love, that's what would do it.

And before she knew it, Theresa was singing. Really singing. As a human, she hadn't found it within herself to sing for the last ten years, or more! Happiness was a small feeling, a human feeling in a vast expanse, but it felt better than anything the world of the Morrigan had to offer…and it was all for Monet.

Monet came into focus almost instantly. She lifted her head slowly, a quizzical expression upon her face. "Terry?" Monet's voice was quiet and forced. It was only then that Theresa realized that Monet had been crying. Monet never cried. Ever. Theresa couldn't help herself. Her body becoming ever more solid—more human—Theresa reached out to Monet, taking her hand and squeezing it.

Monet's features grew hard, snapping to attention at the touch.

"Terry…"

_Monet…my beautiful Monet…_

"I didn't believe Jamie when he told me. I must say, I was completely convinced he'd made up the whole thing. But he didn't did he?" Monet's façade was so perfect that it was almost convincing. Nevertheless, Theresa knew better, if she let the Morrigan's power take over for even an instant, she could literally see Monet's life energy fluctuating dangerously like a flickering flame. Monet was trying to hold herself together, just like Theresa, and it slowly but surely began to show.

"You're not coming back are you, Terry? You're leaving for good, aren't you? Leaving X-Factor, leaving earth, leaving me…"

For all the sadness in Monet's voice, the room seemed to grow brighter at her words. Monet's humanity reminded Theresa of her own. It was easier to move now, easier to put her arms around Monet, easier to pull her close and kiss her.

_Oh Monet, I would never willingly leave you. I love you so much…I never want that to change. I could move on from what I had with James, and I have. I've ascended, cast off my dreams of what could have been…but you, my sister, my soulmate, you are closer to me than my own flesh and blood…I could never…_

It would have sounded infantile, saccharine, coming from Theresa's mouth, but perhaps Theresa was ready to accept that perhaps there was more to her than just a mouth and a pair of lethal vocal chords. The Morrigan needed no defenses as she truly had nothing to lose. What had seemed out of reach, even _wrong_ before, was now more precious than Theresa could have ever imagined. With every touch, Monet came further into focus. Theresa's hands grew slowly warmer and more solid. Her lips, still carrying the pallor of living death, cracked as she smiled down at Monet. Finally, after a few moments of stunned silence, Monet smiled back. Theresa had never felt more human in her life.

"You know, as long as we're being frank with each other, I'm incredibly upset with you," Monet replied, still smiling sadly, "you're just like your father…our father, I suppose. You can't just let yourself be happy. You have to play the hero, always saving someone at the cost of your own happiness. Until the very end. You just had to die the hero, just like him. Just like everyone I've ever loved. Tell me, _Morrigan_, here's that supposed to leave me? I never even got to say goodbye."

Something cracked within Theresa. A scream caught in her throat as her chest began to quiver. The human body she'd worked so desperately hard to construct was being dragged apart again. A voice broke through the void, bursting through her chest. It was an older man's voice, bubbling up from ages past, from the depths of death.

_I never meant to hurt you, Monet, a ghra mo chroi, my sweet little girl. I never would have flown in front of that plane if I knew it would have ended this way… I never meant for her to call for me so soon… I'm so proud of you, Monet. I guess I'll be seeing you, girleen…don't let Emma be getting any crazier than she already is…_

The lights of Monet's room seemed to flicker before Theresa's eyes. Monet's face began to blur, even as Theresa reached for her. A young boy's voice tinged with a hint of a New York accent dislodged itself from Theresa's consciousness.

_I would have asked you to marry me if I'd survived that blast, Monet. I would have sung to you as beautifully as she did before the whole building exploded. I still love you, what's left of me anyway. One day, I'll make you as happy as you made me. I promise. Until then, Monet, until then…_

Monet's eyes were wide. Shaking uncontrollably, Monet leaned into Theresa. While Theresa reveled in the closeness, she couldn't help but feel that Monet was growing farther and farther away. The darkness was building around the corners of Theresa's eyes and the fragmentation she'd felt upon saying goodbye to Jamie pulled at her insides. She'd stayed Theresa far too long and the Morrigan's power was breaking free.

_I…I think I have to go, Monet…I am so, so sorry…I love you so much…_

Theresa could hardly feel Monet's final kiss goodbye as the darkness loomed ever larger. Nevertheless, Monet's words were loud and clear.

"It's alright, I guess…as alright as it's ever going to be. Goodbye, Terry. Goodbye, Sean. Goodbye, Everett… And Terry, thank you."

It was with a newfound acceptance that Theresa allowed herself to shatter and expand into the void.

It was with a newfound acceptance that Theresa allowed herself to shatter and expand into the void. As she felt herself break apart, letting those voices and those of all the other long lost souls flutter through the cracks, it was only then that she understood. She was finally ready. This was the life she'd taken on when she'd agreed to become the Morrigan. All these memories, all this time and space at her command, existed for a reason. As the Morrigan, she'd given Lorna peace, she'd set things right with Jamie, and at long last, she'd given Monet the closest thing to peace that she could muster. At the very least, Monet would sleep soundly tonight, the Morrigan's song resonating in her ears as a gift of life rather than a signal of death. If that wasn't love, Theresa—or the being that had once called herself Theresa—wasn't sure what was.


End file.
